Once, a very long time ago, the Wizarding World made the choice to place much importance on something as trivial and unchangeable as your bloodline. But when they moved forward and decided to drop all this blood nonsense, some of the more traditional wizards refused. And so started the fanatical obsession about Purebloods, Mudbloods, and Half-Bloods.
Once, a very long time ago, a wicked man by the last name of Gaunt raised one son and one daughter. His son was just as wicked as he. The daughter, however, was a Squib and not as malicious. Because of her poor magic skills, her father made the choice to treat her horribly. And so began the descent of Merope Gaunt's life into lust, unrequited love, abuse, shame, and depression.
Once, a very long time ago, a young girl saw a handsome, suave young man named Tom Riddle out of her window and fell in love with him. So in love with him did she fall that when the time came to accept that he was spiteful and shallow, she made excuses for his vain, cruel personality and forced him to fall in love with her. And so Merope Gaunt became Merope Riddle and had her heart broken.
Once, a very long time ago, a young, expecting mother chose to die a heart-broken death rather than use magic to save herself and her young son. And so she died.
Once, a very long time ago, a boy was born to a mother who had given up all magic and died, which put him in an orphanage. Neglected and alone in these strange powers, he made the choice to turn to bullying and cruelty. And so Tom Riddle began the journey that would eventually lead him to call himself Lord Voldemort.
Once, a very long time ago, Mr. and Mrs. Pettigrew sat down and discussed the possibility of having a child. Neither of them had very stable jobs at the moment nor did they feel that parenting was their strongest wish. But as it was the norm of all married couples, they eventually agreed to have a baby. And so Peter was born.
Once, a very long time ago, James Potter bumped into Peter Pettigrew as Peter was attempting to stow away his trunk. They sat together on the train and soon became acquainted with two other boys, Remus and Sirius. And so the four boys became best friends.
Once, a very long time ago, a man fueled by petty hate and anger towards his bullying classmates, made the choice to eavesdrop and report his findings to his master, aware that it would probably mean the death of one of his former taunting schoolmates. Unaware, though, it would also include his wife. And so Lily and James became targeted by Lord Voldemort.
Once, a very long time ago, Peter Pettigrew made the choice between the lives of people he loved and was loved in return by or his own, which in the future would certainly not become much of a life. And so Lily and James Potters' home was broken into one night, and James Potter died defending his baby son and wife.
Once, a very long time ago, a young mother made the choice to die for her son to save his life, rather than save her own. And so Lily Evans Potter was murdered, along with her husband, and Harry Potter lived.
Once, a very long time ago, a man in love with his former schoolmate Lily Evans, made the choice to turn to the cause he knew was just and avenge the death of the woman he loved by working as a spy and fighter. And so Severus Snape began to work for Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.
Once, a very long time ago, a baby boy was sent to live with his aunt and uncle. Because they abhorred magic, they made the choice to treat him hatefully. And so Harry grew up knowing neither love nor happiness, neither comfort nor ease.
Once, a very long time ago, a young boy with a scar on his head and a wand in his pocket made the choice to stay true to the cause he knew was both the hardest, most dangerous, and the most pure. And so Harry Potter took on the task of ridding the world of Tom Riddle and ending the massacre of prejudice and unfounded hate.
Once, a very long time ago, a man who could not see past his own hate, bitterness, and wretchedness, made the choice to initiate an attack on a school for young witches and wizards, causing the school to fight back. And so brothers, mothers, fathers, sisters, and friends alike fell to the floor, with unseeing eyes and cold hands.
Once, a very long time ago, a young man who had suffered much loss and pain made the choice to offer the perpetrator of all this suffering mercy and one final chance to live. The offer was rejected and the young man had no choice but to duel him, finally delivering the killer blow. And so Tom Riddle died at the hand of Harry Potter.
Once, a very long time ago, many people died because of an unofficial war that started out of pride, ignorance, and hate. Many people were affected by small choices made by everyday people whose choices changed people every day.
Once, a very long time ago, was not so long ago.
And the choices made were not so clear and not so monumental.
They were simply choices.
You could spend hours tracing each choice back and back to each person to each person to each person to each person until your head spins and the amounts of blame to hand out are overwhelming.
Or you could just throw aside the choices, for better or worse, and realize that the blame for the evil that transpired does not rest with select persons nor does the praise for the goodness that was witnessed go to just one or two people.
We were simply the pawn of things greater than all of us. We were the tools of greed, of hate, of pride, of bitterness, of hopelessness, of pain, of prejudice, of ignorance, of death, of mistakes, of failure, of apathy, of spite. We were the examples of as much love, as much as hope, as much courage, as much strength, as much truth, as much empathy, as much faith, as much joy, as much kindness, as much goodness as we allow ourselves to be, as much as we could let ourselves feel.
And I think that the sooner we accept this, instead of looking to place blame and guilt, the sooner we can pick up the pieces of our lives that fell apart during those dark times and piece them back together.
It might mean that we have to turn to each other to fit some of these jagged ends together and it might mean that we'll still feel the aftereffects of this long after, but I feel like we can do it. I feel that despite what we've done, what's been done to us, we'll always keep surviving.